


Et In Medio (the in-between)

by mikeynovacaine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Friendship/Love, Harry is bisexual, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Teen Angst, a bit gay really, and Draco is just, implied self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:12:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikeynovacaine/pseuds/mikeynovacaine
Summary: Months after the Battle of Hogwarts, but years before the flash forward at the end of The Deathly Hallows. Everyone at Hogwarts is struggling and grieving in different ways and Harry, given that his two best friends have now fallen madly in love, is beginning to feel lonely.Draco Malfoy is feeling pretty lonely, too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever Harry Potter fic, so read it with a pinch of salt  
> also pls leave a comment  
> i mean  
> if u want  
> criticism is welcomed just as much as praise

_"Get up! Get up!" Harry staggered as Voldemort leered, cold eyes fixed on him. He dared a look past Voldemort, at Cedric's body lying motionless on the grass.  
The scene blurred and changed and it was no longer Cedric's body before him, but Dumbledore's. Harry stifled a cry as his surroundings shifted once again and he was faced with the corpses of Fred, Tonks, Lupin... little Collin Creavy. ___

With a muffled yell, Harry awoke to see himself in the familiar surroundings of his Gryffindor dormitory. He looked over at Ron's bed to comfort himself but as it so often was these days, the bed was empty. After the battle of Hogwarts and loss of one of his brothers, Ron, who once slept like a large, red haired baby, often suffered from nightmares and had taken to sitting in the common room with Hermione when he couldn't sleep at night. The Golden Trio's eighth year at Hogwarts was proving to be just as straining as Harry had imagined it would be but despite being the Chosen One, he'd still have a hard time becoming an auror without his N.E.W.T.S. Harry sighed to himself and knowing that attempting to get more sleep would be futile, he climbed out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown, heading for the showers.

Breakfast in the Great Hall that morning was just as it always been before the battle. If Harry hadn't been there to witness it firsthand, he almost could've imagined that it had just been a story. Hogwarts, of course, had easily been restored to her full glory with much help from McGonigle and the rest of the professors. Harry smiled a little as he sipped his morning pumpkin juice.

"Morning, Harry." Ron spoke cheerfully as he sat down next to Harry, although the bags under his eyes betrayed his smile. "'Mione and I were just saying last night, fancy a trip to Hogsmede in our free periods later?I reckon a visit to the Three Broomsticks might do us some good."

"Er..." Harry looked at Hermione, who was smiling at Ron contentedly. "Think I'll just stay here. Got some studying to do. You two go on though, it'll be good"

Ron's brows furrowed slightly, but he let it slide. Harry suspected that he was grateful to be granted more alone time with his girlfriend. Later on, as Harry waved the pair off and watched as his two best friends in the world linked their hands together, he felt a pang of jealousy. It wasn't that he was jealous of either one of them, Harry had always known that they'd be perfect together. He was jealous of the connection the two now shared, separate from him. They'd always been a trio but now it was Ron and Hermione... and Harry. He had been in love with Ginny, but the guilt he felt after Fred's death had put such a strain on their relationship and besides, she was so much happier with Dean than she ever had been with Harry. He sighed once again, and turned to make for the library. As he walked through the familiar corridors of his beloved school, his mind turned to Cho Chang. Cho was brilliant and he'd always thought she was gorgeous, but his relationship with her, too, was strained by a death he had inadvertently caused. When he really thought about it, his track history with love was almost laughable. Browsing the library's shelves in search of something that might help him with his latest Transfiguration essay, Harry, who was deeply lost in thoughts of how he could ever be in a relationship again, stumbled into Malfoy. The blond quirked an eyebrow, "Watch out, Potter." The phrase no longer had as much malice behind it as it once would've.

"My bad," Harry muttered, stepping aside to let Draco by. "Wasn't thinking." Draco smirked and leaned against the shelf next to Harry. Although still handsome, the battle of Hogwarts and a year of living with Voldemort had taken its toll on him. His eyes were heavily rimmed and his robes hung off him a little more than they'd used to. Despite this, however, Malfoy had still managed to maintain the same level of arrogance he always had. 

"Seems to be quite a common thing for you, Potter." Draco's expression softened a little and his smirk subsided into what could easily have been mistaken for a genuine smile. "Where are Granger and Weaslebee? Off snogging somewhere I expect."

Although his tone was mocking, Harry knew the drill by now. These days Draco's snide remarks were more of a formality than anything else, a way for the pair to cling on to a little bit of normality.

"Yeah, I expect so," Harry retorted. He gave another glance at the bookshelf in front of him, and shook his head. "As much as you know I love our chats, Malfoy, I'll be off..." 

Draco frowned at this, and took hold of Harry's arm. At Draco's touch, Harry felt as though he'd received a gentle electric shock. He shivered a little. "Wait a minute, Potty. There was something I wanted to ask you about..."


	2. Chapter 2

Harry blinked at Draco from beneath his glasses, "Oh. Alright. What is it?" Draco's cheeks flushed slightly and he released his grip of Harry's arm. "It's just. That night... In the Room of Requirement. You could've let me and Greg..." He trailed off and looked away. Harry felt slightly stunned. In all the months since the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco had inevitably spent quite a bit of time together in classes and such. They'd had multiple conversations, however short, and not once had they discussed Harry saving Draco from Crabbe's fiend fire in the room of Requirement. Harry gawped at him.

"You don't actually think I'm _that_ much of a foul git, do you Malfoy? You may be an arrogant prick, but I wasn't about to let you burn to death."

Malfoy considered this for a minute, before nodding. "Suppose not," Draco leaned in closer, his voice hushed to a soft whisper. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck pricked up and for the second time, he shuddered. "While we're here, I just thought I would mention... I would've done the same for you, Potter." And with that, Malfoy turned and stalked off, his robes swishing behind him. Harry stared after him, before coming back to his senses and remembering what he was supposed to be doing. 

_What the hell?_ He thought, grabbing the first Transfiguration book he saw off the shelf and shoving it into his bag. Since when did Draco Malfoy have a conscience?

~

Hermione sat across the table from Harry, bushy hair sticking out behind from a rather large volume titled **'Arithmancy: A Wizard's Guide'.** Ron, who was happily digging in to his roast potatoes, paused his chewing for a moment.

"Right, Harry. You're not getting out of it this time, ya git. We're going to Hogsmede as soon as I've finished dinner." 

Hermione put down her book to stare Harry down from where she sat. Ron, he could've said no to, but when Hermione stared you down, you did what she told you. 

"Alright, okay. Yeah, I'll come with you. Can we bring someone though? Don't really fancy being a gooseberry for the evening." 

Hermione's face fell and she nudged Ron's arm.

"Oh Harry! How could you think that? The three of us have been friends for years! Nothing's changed, just because Ron and I are..." She paused, encouraging Ron to have some input.

"Hermione's right, mate. You're not a gooseberry. If it makes, you feel any better, we won't even hold hands."

"Oh, even better, a pity party!" Harry snarled, unable to hide his frustration. Hermione had begun to get rather flustered; she looked as if she might cry. 

"Harry, please, Ron didn't mean-"

"I know what you both meant," he muttered, allowing his anger to subside before he spoke again. "Look, sorry. I'm just... not really in the mood tonight." Harry looked at his two friends, noticing that Ron had put a protective arm around Hermione's shoulders. 

"Oh, Harry. If there's something, anything..."

Harry nodded and got abruptly to his feet. "I know, 'Mione. Thanks. Sorry I was a prat."

~

He'd been wandering around the lake for a couple of hours before Malfoy appeared, wrapped up against the October chill. The latter gave a nod of acknowledgement and muttered, "Potter," under his breath for good measure. Harry pulled his cloak around him tighter and made to leave, before Draco surprised him into stopping.

"Harry?"

That must've been one of the only times he'd heard Draco address him by his first name.

"Yes? Er... Draco?" Harry replied, unsure. The name felt odd in his mouth through lack of use. 

"How do you... Does it ever - ever get easier?"

Harry frowned. Draco was still facing away from him, his body ridged, unreadable. 

"What do you mean?"

"The flashbacks... The _nightmares!_ I feel like I haven't slept in a bloody year!" Draco turned finally, and if Harry didn't know better, he might've said he saw tear tracks on his pale cheeks. 

"Er... I dunno. I suppose so. Not... Well, I mean. It hasn't yet. For me. Not since the Battle, at least."

Malfoy nodded, shifting uncomfortably where he stood. His Slytherin scarf hung loosely around his neck and he'd taken of his tie so that a little bit of his chest was exposed. Harry saw the outline of a scar. A scar that he'd given Draco... 

Draco caught him looking and hurriedly pulled his robes tighter to his body, glaring at Harry. "Powerful curse you hit me with. Pomfrey couldn't figure out a way to fix me without scarring." 

"I-I'm s-," Draco cut Harry off with a harsh, cruel laugh. 

"Sorry? Don't bother. We've done plenty of damage to each other."

Draco gathered himself, puffing out his chest a little and regaining his usual, haughty look.

"Goodnight, Potter." And with that, he left, once again leaving Harry in the dust.


	3. Chapter 3

_"No! No! STOP IT!" Myrtle cried, hovering above the boys as they shot hexes at one another. Malfoy, face contorted with rage and fear opened his mouth and began, "CRUCI-"_

_"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Harry yelled, waving his wand manically. Malfoy, as though cut by some invisible knife, began to gush blood from his face and chest. The boy stumbled and collapsed onto the floor, his blood mingling with the water in scarlet pools. "No - I didn't mean -" Harry was cut off by a horrible gurgle emanating from Malfoy's throat. Harry sobbed as he collapsed forward onto the boy's bleeding chest. "No! Draco... Please..." He leaned upwards, wiping blood from Draco's face and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I didn't mean..."_

Harry woke with a jolt, as he had almost every night. He'd dreamt about this moment before, he'd always been wracked with guilt. But never had he... _a kiss? Really?_ Harry wasn't sure where his subconscious' sudden affection for Draco had appeared from. He groaned, lying back down in bed. He lay there for a while, just staring at the top of his four-poster bed. Ron must've had more than Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks as Harry could hear him snoring gently through the curtains. _At least one of us is getting some rest,_ he thought to himself, rolling onto his side. He glaced at his watch. _3:34_. Harry rolled his eyes, abandoning the idea that he might possibly ever get back to sleep. He slid out of bed, grabbed his cloak and map and padded downstairs to the common room, sliding quietly past the portrait door. Wandering around the castle at night made Harry feel a bit like a kid again. He'd spent so many nights in his previous years sneaking around and hiding from teachers that it was sort of automatic to bring his cloak even though it was likely that he wouldn't be reprimanded for it at this age. He'd just reached the astronomy tower when he glanced down at the map and squinted when he noticed a little dot just down the corridor from him labelled _Draco Malfoy_. He frowned. He and Draco had been having a lot of 'chance meetings' recently and he couldn't help being a little suspicious. He'd spent seven years of his lift not trusting Draco, and he _had_ been a Death Eater until very recently. Just because Voldemort was gone, it didn't suddenly make Draco Malfoy trustworthy. Although... There was that day at the manor when Harry had been caught by snatchers. It was so obviously Harry, despite the stinging jinx Hermione had sent his way, and yet Draco had lied to cover up for him. Perhaps he wasn't so bad. Harry pondered what he would've done in Draco's shoes. Death Eater parents, living with The Dark Lord himself. He supposed that the boy must've been terrified. Harry sighed. He didn't really blame Draco. He couldn't help who he'd been raised by. Just as this thought entered his head, Draco appeared into view. He was clad in his robe and silk pyjama trousers with his torso slightly on display so that Harry was able to catch another glimpse at his handiwork. The scars stood out on Draco's pale skin. They looked sharp, as though the wounds had been deep. _Must've been painful..._ Harry shifted awkwardly under the cloak so that his foot slipped out. Draco, who already looked on edge, jumped at the sight of Harry's disembodied foot. 

"Christ! Potter?" He gasped, reaching a hand out in Harry's direction and attempting to pull the cloak from him. Harry let the cloak fall and hung his head a little. Things were so uncomfortable between the two since Draco's outburst at the lake.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. I was just..."

Draco sighed, running a had through his silver hair. Harry noted that the former looked rather dishevelled. 

"No, it's fine. I was just. Walking. I'm finding it hard to sleep."

"Me too," Harry agreed, and Draco's grey eyes caught his for a moment before breaking contact completely. "You having bad dreams?"

Draco nodded, shrugging his shoulders. "Yeah. But I'm getting quite used to it now. Plus, walking around here isn't so bad. I've been to rooms and floors I never even existed." 

Harry smiled slightly, making a little hum of agreement. "Yeah. There's a lot more to this school than I used to think. Look, Draco..." Addressing Malfoy in this way still made Harry cringe a little, but he continued and gestured to Draco's chest. "Those scars... It must've been really crap. I honestly didn't know what that spell would do to you and - and I really am... Sorry." 

Draco considered this for a minute before speaking. His lips curled into a little smirk.

"Not to worry, Harry. There's two sides to what happened. I was about to use the Cruciatus curse on you." 

"Fair enough," Harry replied. "Does that mean you forgive me?"

Draco shrugged once again, his smirk growing. 

"Suppose so. Didn't realise my forgiveness meant anything to you, Potty." His lips spread into a grin, however it wasn't malicious or cruel. Harry thought that his smile was quite handsome, really. 

"It doesn't," He retorted, smiling back. "Just didn't want to feel guilty for the rest of my life." Harry nudged Draco's foot with his own but then, realising what he'd done, withdrew completely. "Er..."

Draco was staring at him, surprised. Aside from Draco grabbing his arm the other day, this must've been one of the first times they'd made physical contact. There was an awkward pause with the two boys simply staring at each other before Draco kicking Harry gently in the shin and laughing. 

"If you say so, Potter. This is a bit weird, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is a bit. Never really thought we'd ever... I dunno. Talk."

"Well, if its any consolation, Potter, neither did I. But after everything, a school boy feud seems a bit ridiculous, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does a bit." Harry grinned and Draco grinned right back. It was bizarre. They stood smiling at each other for a short while before returning to reality. 

"Don't suppose you fancy some company for a bit?" Harry asked carefully, biting his bottom lip.

~

Well, if that hadn't been the strangest night of his life. The pair had wandered the halls until Harry glanced at his watch and discovered that it was ten to six and the castle would begin to wake soon. The two had parted at the staircase, Draco making his way down to the dungeons and Harry to Gryffindor Tower. Harry had climbed back into bed and laid there for about an hour thinking about all the things Draco had told him. From what he gathered, Draco and his father had never gotten on that well, and Lucius was often cruel to his only son. His parents' marriage was arranged, which had been common among pureblood families when they were young. Draco's mother, Narcissa, had tried to be kind and loving towards him however her sister Bellatrix had often discouraged her from being 'too soft on the boy'. It was strange, but once you'd gotten past his superior facade, Draco changed a lot. His voice had softened and his speech became more casual. He had started to sound more like an actual eighteen year old boy than some sixty-year-old high and mighty lord. Harry smiled to himself as the boys in the surrounding beds began to stir and wake. He drew back the curtain and was greeted by a groan from Ron.

"Ughhh... God, Harry. I feel so crap." 

Harry laughed at his friend's evident hungover grogginess. 

"I'm sure Hermione can whip you up a headache draught in no time."

"Why're you so bloody cheery, then? Have I missed something?" Ron grumbled, getting to his feet and and making to go to the showers. 

"Nothing at all, Ronald." Harry said with a smile, causing Ron to shoot him a funny look over his shoulder. Harry just grinned, smug and content.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think/hope this is improving as i go! i don't really have a plan for the ending yet, but i'm really enjoying where this is going  
> feedback would be really really great  
> thankssss

Harry was finding it incredibly difficult to concentrate in his Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. The teacher, Professor Smith or Smyth or whatever it was, was droning on about protective enchantments. It was times like this that Harry began to question his decision to return to Hogwarts. Protective enchantments hadn't done much to save anyone at the Battle of Hogwarts. He sat in-between Ron and Hermione, doodling stars on the page with his quill, completely zoned out. Hermione was writing screeds and screeds of notes (Harry didn't _quite_ understand why, given all the enchantments she'd cast the previous year) while Ron seemed to be taking a quick afternoon nap, chin resting on his arm. There was a sense of boredom and sleepiness across the board, which the teacher either hadn't noticed or simply didn't care about. Harry glanced up from his page, looking over in Draco's direction. Draco looked better than he had in a long time. He was leaning back lazily in his chair, legs propped up on the table. At first, he was looking in the teacher's direction but he must've felt Harry's gaze as it wasn't long before they locked eyes. Malfoy quirked an eyebrow and gave Harry a once over, making the latter's heart leap a little in his chest. Harry looked away quickly, unsure of himself. When he looked back, Draco's face had broken out into a cheeky grin and his eyes were laughing. It was as if he was teasing Harry. _What the hell? What's going on with this boy..._ Harry turned his attention back to his paper, not giving Draco the satisfaction of making him squirm. This was certainly proving to be a weird, emotional roller-coaster.

It sort of made sense that he and Draco were able to strike up a friendship of sorts, after all, Harry had been intended for Slytherin at one point in his life. It wasn't the friendship that confused him. He wasn't blind, he'd always been able to appreciate the way that Draco looked as he was sure everyone else around him had. It also wasn't new for Harry to be attracted to another man. He'd told Ginny one night when they were alone curled up in her room, that he thought he might like girls... and boys. Ginny had smiled and said simply, "I know." These things made perfect sense to Harry. It was just the electricity he felt when they touched and the way his heart skipped a beat when Draco looked at him. It was completely ridiculous, given how much they'd always hated each other.

~

Draco was sitting between Blaise and Theo Knott at dinner, laughing at some clearly hilarious joke Pansy Parkinson had made. Seeing him looking genuinely relaxed, Harry couldn't help but smile. Anyone could've seen that Draco was having a hard time. After all, his father was in Azkaban and his mother in Saint Mungos. Before Draco could catch him looking, Harry turned his attention back to his friends. 

"Okay, so I'm _really_ sorry that I've been such a prick lately. So I thought, Hogsmede. Three Broomsticks. Golden Trio."

That last part made Ron snigger. They'd always treated that tabloid nickname as sort of a joke. 

"Alright, you're forgiven. You're paying though," He beamed, squeezing Hermione's hand on the table next to him. She too was smiling. 

"Great!" Hermione chimed in, shooting Harry her best smile. "We've missed you recently, Harry."

~

The walk down to Hogsmede was cold, but not unpleasant. Ron and Hermione held hands but she looped her arm through Harry's, including him in the chain. Harry felt more normal than he had in weeks. 

"It almost feels like nothing's changed, doesn't?" Hermione looked at Harry, a hint of knowing in her expression. "But at the same time, everything has." 

Ron grunted in agreement, giving Hermione's hand a gentle squeeze. "Yeah, totally. Nothing's changed at all." 

He smirked at Harry over Hermione's shoulder, and Harry smiled back. They reached the Three Broomsticks and pushed the door open, stamping their feet to warm up. October was drawing to an end, and Hogsmede was cold in the winter. They chose a table close to the fire and Ron ordered a Firewhiskey for himself and Harry and a Butterbeer for Hermione who still, despite being of legal age, refused to touch the stuff. It didn't take many drinks before Harry started to feel the warm burning in his chest, and a slight numbness in his limbs. His speech wasn't quite slurred but he spoke slowly, careful not to trip over his words and be reprimanded by the ever sober, ever vigilant Hermione. Ron could hold his drink a lot better than Harry, and seemed to be finding his tipsiness quite amusing. 

"You really don't come here often enough, Harry," he teased, taking another sip of his drink. "We should probably head back up soon. "

The pub was silent for a moment, as it was quite empty. The door creaked and in walked Blaise, Theodore and Malfoy. Harry shuddered at the sight of him, hiding behind Ron and Hermione, who sat closer to the door. Hermione noticed this, because she noticed everything. 

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Harry. Its only Malfoy. He's harmless. And besides, we're supposed to be getting along with the Slytherins now, remember?" 

Harry made a little grunt in protest, but it was too late. Hermione, in all her wisdom, was waving the trio over enthusiastically. "Draco! There's spare seats here!" Harry didn't bother to mention that there were a multitude of other spare seats elsewhere in the pub. He was still unsure about facing Malfoy following their last meeting. Things had gotten quite intimate, and he sensed that they both felt extremely awkward about it. Despite this and the surprised look on his face, Draco and his friends plonked down in the remaining seats at Harry's table. Draco just so happened to be across from him. 

"Um... Evening Granger. Weasley," Draco paused, eyes lingering on Harry. "Potter." Harry merely nodded in greeting, looking mostly at the table. 

"Alright, Malfoy?" Ron responded, just a hint of bitterness in his voice. Harry knew he found it the most difficult to be trusting of Malfoy. "Zabini, Knott. You planning on joining the Quidditch team again this year?"

It was a smart move on Ron's part because Harry honestly couldn't think of anything else the six of them could discuss. Hermione seemed to regret her decision a little however, as it wasn't long before she started to look very bored indeed. She let out an over-exaggerated yawn, hand moving to rest on Ron's thigh. 

"It's getting quite late." She looked at him pointedly, and Ron shot up out his seat. 

"So it is! Oh well, time for bed... Was nice talking to you all." He threw a nod at Harry, already pulling on his coat. "See you in a bit, Harry." 

The door swung shut behind them and there was an awkward pause. Blaise got to his feet.

"Granger's right. Its a bit late." Theodore nodded, standing also. 

"Coming, Draco?" 

Draco shook his head slowly, eyes boring into the top of Harry's head. 

"No... I'll catch up with you. You go on."

Zabini and Knott exchanged a look, making for the door. Now, aside from an old witch at the bar, Harry and Draco were alone. 

"How are you?" Draco asked, his tone pleasant and inquisitive. "You look a bit... peaky."

Harry finally allowed himself to make eye contact, clutching his half empty pitcher of Fire-whiskey. 

"Nah, nah. I'm good." He replied softly, taking a swig to punctuate his words. "You?"

Draco nodded, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "I never would've suspected that Harry Potter, the great Chosen One, was a lightweight." 

Harry grunted, kicking Draco playfully under the table. "Shut up. There wasn't much time for drinking while I was out, oh, I don't know, saving the world?"

Draco's response to this was a soft chuckle, and God was it music to Harry's ears. The skin around his eyes crinkled when he laughed. 

"You should laugh more," Harry said before the sober part of his brain could stop him. He immediately wished he could take it back, but Draco remained unphased.

"You should try being a bit cockier more often. Suits you," Draco smiled, pushing his bright white hair off his face. Harry's stomach flipped. This was the Fire-whiskey making him feel like this, nothing more. 

"We should probably head back up to Hogwarts you know," Draco stood and offered his hand to Harry. He took it, shaking a little from a combination of the alcohol and the nerves that being alone with Draco gave him. They stepped out into the cold, respective house scarves draped around their necks. Despite the light from the street lamps, it was still very dark. Later than they both thought. 

_"Lumos,"_ murmured Draco and the tip of his wand lit up. Harry followed suit. The thought that Draco might be afraid of the dark entered his head, but he quickly dismissed it. It was his drunk brain, after all. They walked a little of the way in silence, listening to the wind murmur as it passed between houses and trees. It was so peaceful and calm, that Harry couldn't help but feel utterly at ease despite the fact that he was walking next to his once sworn enemy. _Things change._ He thought to himself, looking sideways at Draco. Draco paused just as they had entered an ally way that would take them to one of the shortcuts back up to the castle. Harry stood with his back to the wall, a tense feeling building from the pit of his stomach. 

"I've been having dreams, Harry..." Draco muttered softly, looking down at the frosty ground. "At first they were awful... All the terrible things that I've done. But then... a few nights ago... There you were." 

Harry bit his lip, unsure of where Draco was taking this. Draco looked at him, eyes lingering on his mouth for a second longer than they should've. He let out an exasperated sigh and took a step closer. Harry didn't move. 

"And then last night. I hadn't ever told..." 

"Me neither," Harry replied, the Fire-whiskey supplying him with enough courage to speak. Draco took another step forward, and Harry's heart was thumping in his chest like a bird begging to be set free from a cage. The space between them had disappeared within seconds. Draco's wind-chilled hand rested on Harry's cheek, making his breath catch in his throat. Draco's lips curled into a smirk and he closed the distance between them for good. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a rlly short chapter cause im gonna be quite busy over the weekend but didnt want to leave anyone hanging in regards to the kiss  
> hope it lived up to expectations

Harry melted completely under Draco's touch. Their kiss was gentle at first, tentative. Harry's hands moved slowly across Draco's back as they clung to each other, lips moving softly. Soft was the perfect word for Draco's lips. He'd expected kissing a boy to be harsher than a girl but there was no stubble on Draco's chin and his lips were supple. Harry made a low hum against Malfoy's mouth and Draco deepened the kiss, pressing harder and more urgently. It felt as though time had stopped for them and Harry almost forgot where was, his name even. All he could think was _wow, Draco..._ Draco pulled away slowly and it took a lot for Harry not to follow his mouth desperately and continue to kiss him. The boys smiled, and Draco pressed his forehead against Harry's.

"Don't know about you, Potter, but that was a long time coming."

Harry nodded, a little too enthusiastically. It had never really occurred to him but as soon as Draco's mouth was on his, it made perfect sense. After all, they say that there's a very fine line between love and hate. Draco pressed a gentle peck onto Harry's lips and pulled away from him, leaving Harry feeling cold and suddenly uncertain. 

"Even so," Draco began, his body tensing a little, "probably for the best if you don't... Mention this to Granger or Weasley."

Harry's heart sank. He hadn't had the intention of doing so, but there was something in the way that Draco said this that conveyed a sense of shame in his actions. Harry would never have dreamed of telling a soul but, he hated the idea that Draco was ashamed of himself and the way he felt. Even so, Harry couldn't help but relate to that just a little bit.

They made their way back up to the castle mostly in silence, although Harry couldn't help but feel the electricity every time their hands brushed. They parted ways at the staircase once again, Draco kissing Harry gently on the top of his messy black hair before walking away silently leaving Harry feeling a mixture of ecstatic and horribly confused. He knew for a fact he would not be sleeping tonight.


	6. I'll tell you my sins, you can sharpen your knife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first chapter mostly from draco's perspective  
> i watched a load of videos on youtube to get inspired but this one was my fave  
> all the draco feels  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0oBTBrgkoc  
> (sorry for another short chapter, something else should be up tonight or tomorrow GMT)

_"Draco... You are no assassin," Dumbledore spoke calmly._

_"How do you know what I am?" Draco's voice shook, "I've done things that would shock you!" Darkness crept in from all sides and suddenly he was a little boy again, tear tracks staining his cheeks. "You stupid boy!" His father shouted, glaring down at him. "How dare you cry, how dare you be so weak..."_

_"D-dad... Please, I didn't mean - "_

_"Silence, Draco! You will address me as father. You are a Malfoy, it would serve you well to remember that." Malfoy manor crumbled around him and he stood in the ruins of Hogwarts. "Well done, Draco..." Voldemort's voice was a whisper filling his head._

As a child, Draco was always terrified of displeasing his father. Everything he did, he was striving to impress him. He studied hard, achieved commendable grades and made the Quidditch team. He'd even tried his best to turn himself into a killer. All the while, Draco had never known that his father was the real coward. Projecting his insecurities onto his only son, his heir. Draco had always been torn between his father and how he truly felt. Even in first year, he'd reached out to Harry, trying to find a friend. But of course, his upbringing betrayed him as it would for years to come. Draco lay rigid in his bed, hands resting on this chest. It was as if he couldn't close his eyes without reliving another mistake. As if he was cursed. Draco remembered Harry's face after he'd kissed him. It took everything in his power not to ask himself _what would father think?_

He shook the thought from his head, rolling over. It no longer mattered what _daddy dearest_ thought. He assumed he wasn't doing much thinking in Askaban, anyway. He mentally scolded himself, as he so often did, for being such a coward all his life. He felt the ghost of his father's cane connecting with his shoulder blade and shuddered.

~

Draco ran a hand through his hair, gritting his teeth. He was sitting in a History of Magic lesson and he could _feel_ Potter's eyes boring into him. He allowed his mind to drift to last night and sighed. What had he been _thinking?_ He heard his own voice in his head telling Harry that their kiss had been a long time coming. It had, of course. Since the end of sixth year, Draco had been struggling with it. When he turned seventeen and lost the trace, he'd snuck out into muggle London and Confunded a bouncer into letting him into one of their 'clubs'. He'd drank, and drank and drank until he stopped caring. He'd let one of the muggle boys kiss him, and he'd liked it. This was another memory that caused Draco to shudder and cringe. Later that year, to balance things out he caught Pansy Parkison alone in their common room and kissed her, following her to a "place we can be alone..." He hadn't bothered stopping her when she unbuttoned his shirt. Draco dragged his hand across his face and finally turned his head to lock eyes with Harry. The dark haired boy didn't break contact as he would've before, and instead raised a curious eyebrow. Draco raised both his in response, pouting a little. He couldn't help himself; flirting was almost as second nature to him as mockery was.

When the class was done, Draco noticed that Harry hung back from his friends, lingering by the door.

"Alright, Potter." Draco cracked a half-smile as they fell into step together, making their way to the great hall. 

"Never better," Harry responded before lowering his voice. "Are you busy later? We should probably... Talk. " 

_Probably,_ Draco thought, nodding his head. "Suppose so. I'm guessing you know somewhere... Private?" He licked his lips, glancing around him to make sure no one heard. Everyone was walking by as normal. 

"I didn't mean it like that, Harry," he grumbled when he saw the look on the latter's face. "I just mean that this conversation probably won't be for public ears." 

Harry stifled a laugh, and Draco wasn't sure if he wanted to punch him or kiss him. "Astronomy Tower at eleven. See you later." With that, Potter disappeared into the crowd. If Draco didn't know better, he'd think that Harry was trying to get the upper hand. That was _not_ going to happen. 

~


	7. I'll be good

The rest of the day dragged on painfully. For most of the evening, Draco sat alone at a table in the Slytherin common room doodling little dragons on one of his notebooks. He was idly thinking about what it was that had drawn him to Potter in the first place, aside from his obvious looks and irritating charming-ness. The image of Potter as a baby popped into his head, chubby and giggling surrounded by doting muggle aunt and uncle. He wondered if Harry had cousins who he'd played with as a kid. It would make sense, he thought. Harry had always made making friends look so _easy_. That wasn't to say that Draco was unpopular. He was one of the best looking boys in his year and Slytherin girls would often pine after him. He could intimidate people into doing what he wanted and he was always surrounded by his cronies. But they weren't _friends_. Most of the people he associated with were barely even capable of forming an intelligent conversation, let alone talking to about feelings or... anything, really. The closest Draco had to real friends were Knott, Zabini and Goyle. All the children of former death eaters. _Just like me..._ Draco looked up at the clock and perked up a bit when he noticed that it was half past ten. He contemplated what he and Harry would say to one another, and if Harry would try to kiss him again. He supposed he'd let him, against his better judgement. The kiss had been amazing, if a little sloppy. Draco supposed that Harry had had little experience with the exception of Weasley's sister and possibly that Chang girl he used to overhear Harry talking about. With himself, however, it was a different story. He'd kissed - and been with - plenty of girls and a handful of boys, although he'd only ever taken things further with one or two girls. The children of Death Eaters were often poorly supervised. That thought made Draco smirk, and he closed his notebook.

~

It was a cold night, even for Hogwarts. Draco had wrapped himself tightly in his robe worn over a grey silk shirt. He didn't really know what had made him wear it, perhaps he just felt like showing off a bit. Eight year students had a curfew of 12:30 so he made his way freely through the castle, undisturbed. He was late by five minutes, he had made sure of it. Potter was facing away from him as he approached, gazing out at the view. Draco had to admit, as much as he hated that wretched school, they views were spectacular. Draco cleared his throat and Harry turned, looking wistful. Malfoy took in the scene in front of him, admiring the way the moonlight reflected off of Harry's skin and shone through his stupid glasses. 

"Was starting to think you might not show up," Harry began, leaning on the railings. 

"Yeah, well I'm not especially fond of this particular spot. Didn't think you would be either. Plenty of unpleasant memories." Draco replied, casting a reproachful eye around him. Harry just looked at him, mouth slightly ajar. 

"I'm not. Particularly fond of it here, I mean. It just has quite a nice view. And it's nice to come here sometimes..." Harry trailed off. Draco supposed that it had never occurred to Harry that Draco was even capable of having unpleasant memories until pretty recently. Even so, he nodded and moved to stand next to Harry against the railings. 

"I suppose the view isn't awful," he murmured casting his eye out across the moonlit lake and up the frosted, sloping hills. Harry made a hum of agreement and Draco turned and realised that Harry was staring at him. His stomach jolted when he noticed the look on Harry's face. His lips were parted and his eyes hard with concentration. He was staring at Draco's mouth. Draco turned his whole body to line up with Harry's, shifting a _lot_ closer to him. Draco raised his hand and pushed his fingers into Harry's dark hair. It was softer than he'd expected it to be. He leaned down and kissed him, hard. Their lips crashed together and Draco gave an experimental little tug on Harry's hair, nipping his bottom lip between his teeth gently. Harry moaned quietly in response, clutching at Draco's back and leaning further into him. When they finally broke apart, Harry's cheeks were flushed and so were his lips. His already messy hair stuck up at an angle that made Draco chuckle gently. 

"Now that's out of the way, I think we've probably got quite a bit to talk about..."

The conversation started out light, cautious even. Both of them started out very reserved. The boys sat with their backs against the railings, wind rustling through their hair. Things took a turn when they got onto the topic of their kiss had ever become a possibility. 

"I realised... Last year, maybe. Took me a while," Harry said, fidgeting with his fingers. "But I... I like both. I really did like Ginny. And Cho." 

Draco nodded, tilting his head to one side. "I could tell. You're quite protective of the people you like," he sighed. "I've always known. I think father might actually die of shock if he ever found out about it. I've only ever kissed a few boys though. And not quite like this."

"I always thought... I guess I'd always thought that your father loved you quite a bit. The way he was..."

Draco shrugged. "Easy enough mistake to make," he tugged at a lose thread on his robe. "But my father always was a _swine_." Ironically, Draco thought, he sounded a lot like the swine in question. "I suppose your aunt and uncle doted on you. Must've been _so proud_ to have a little wizard in their muggle family." Malfoy couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. He looked over at Harry, who suddenly looked very downcast. It was a while before either of them spoke. 

"My aunt and uncle hated me, Draco." Harry murmured, his voice a little shaky. "For the first..." he took a deep breath, shifting where he sat. "The first ten years I lived with them, they forced me to live in the cupboard under the stairs. I'd go days without any real meals... In second year, they put bars on my window." 

Draco's eyes widened and he shuffled closer to Harry, resting a comforting hand on his knee. 

"I'm sorry, Potter. I didn't know." Draco was hit with a wave of guilt. What an ignorant child he was. He'd always thought of Potter as the golden boy, everything handed to him on a silver platter when all the while he was locked up in some ghastly muggle hovel, completely isolated. Harry involuntarily leaned into Draco and they sat there together, intertwined, listening to the wind through the railings and the distant hooting of the owls. Draco felt more at peace than he had in years but now, he only slightly resented himself for it. 


	8. The boy who made all the wrong choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls pls pls leave a comment and let me know what you think of this plsss

Harry was utterly torn. On the one hand, Draco had changed a lot since his days of calling Hermione _'mudblood'_ and gloating _'my father will hear about this!'_ but on the other, Draco had still chosen to be a Death Eater once. Although, Harry thought, Draco probably didn't have all that much choice in the matter. The phrase 'kill or be killed' sprung to mind. He knew that with pureblood families such as the Malfoys it was always about survival of the fittest. If he, Harry, was honest with himself, he found it quite shocking that Draco had managed to keep even an ounce of his sanity growing up in the midst of it all. He watched Draco talking to his friends from across the Three Broomsticks. They seemed to be happy enough although, Harry frowned when he watched Draco make a particularly grand gesture with his left arm, and then flinch.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice dragged him from his thoughts, bringing him back to his own table, with his own friends. It was lunch time on a Saturday and the three of them sat around their cosy table next to the fire. 

"You're... Staring at Malfoy again, Harry. What's the matter? Are you suspicious of him again?"

Ron looked at Harry now, too. "Yeah, mate. I know we're all happy families with them now, but if there's anyone we should be wary of, it's definitely him. Still a slimy git, if you ask me." Ron took a sip of his butterbeer, shooting Draco a sarcastic smile. He didn't notice Harry's fist clench under the table. 

"Ronald, behave yourself. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant... Well, is do you think he's up to something, Harry? All you've done the past _two weeks_ is stare at him." 

Harry cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly in his seat. 

"No, no. He's not. I'm just..." Harry paused, chewing his bottom lip. "I'm a bit... Worried about him." 

Ron choked on his butterbeer and Hermione smacked him forcefully on the back. Eyes from all around the pub turned to them and there was a short pause before the usual noise began again. 

"Sorry, I think I miss-heard you, Harry," Ron said, looking shocked. 

Harry shook his head at his best friend, rolling his eyes. "Ron, c'mon. Look at him. Every time he moves his left hand, he winces. That's the arm they have their..."

"Dark Mark," Hermione finished for him.

Harry nodded solemnly and finished his drink. "Yeah. " 

~ 

About a week had passed since Harry and Draco met in the Astronomy Tower and they hadn't had a chance to talk in private since. Harry watched as Draco and his friends made their way back to the castle. He, Hermione and Ron had returned a couple of hours earlier. Harry stepped out into the courtyard, beckoning Malfoy over with a nod of his head. He watched as Draco gestured for his friends to go on without him and made his way over. The pair waited for Draco's cronies to be out of earshot before their conversation began. 

"Draco, hi." Harry smiled and Draco shot him a half smile back. "Alright?"

"Fine, Potter. You?" Draco spoke as if he were in a hurry to get away, making Harry frown. 

"What's wrong? Somewhere to be?"

Draco shook his head and Harry noticed him tugging down his left sleeve. "It's not that. It's just. Bit open here, isn't it?"

~ 

The Room of Requirement, to Harry's amazement, still made itself available to them. The room it gave them to talk in was warm but sparsely furnished, with a small wood burning stove and a plush sofa for them to sit on. It even gave them mugs of hot chocolate, making Harry smile and Draco grimace.

"Listen, Draco." Harry sat down, gesturing for Malfoy to join him. "There's something up with you. You were all happy and smug and _Draco-y_ and now you can barely wave at me without flinching. What's wrong? Is there something happening with your..." Harry trailed off, uncomfortable. "Mark?"

Draco snorted, waving his hand through the air dismissively. "I really don't know what you're talking about, Potter. You're making a deal out of nothing." 

Harry raised his eyebrows, reaching out cautiously and catching Draco's left arm. Draco flinched and tried to pull away, his air of arrogance dissolving. 

"Let go, Potter." His voice was low, almost like a growl. Harry shook his head defiantly. Draco stopped struggling once Harry had unbuttoned the sleeve of his shirt. He turned his head away, desperate not to see the look of pity on Harry's face when he saw - 

"God, Draco..." Harry's words came out as a gasp, a whisper. Draco shook his head, snatching his arm away. This time, Harry let him. 

"The... The mark... It's cut to ribbons, Draco. Those cuts look... New." Draco turned and watched as Harry's fists clenched. 

"Who did that to you, Draco? Tell me. Who was it?"

Draco shook his head, placing his right hand firmly on Harry's. 

"Harry, c'mon. Leave it. Calm down." 

"NO!" Harry shouted, springing up from his seat. "You did things, Draco, terrible things but you're _trying_ and you don't deserve..." 

Harry felt heat and rage swelling in his chest. He stared down at Draco, who was fumbling with the cuff of his shirt. 

"Harry, it's fine. I deserve it."

Harry shook his head but Draco dragged him back down so he was seated once again. 

"As much as I enjoyed that display of heroics, just calm down a bit." 

Draco waited a few moments before speaking again. Harry's breaths were coming in hard and fast. 

"Please, just forget about it, okay?" 

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. "Alright, I'll forget about it. Please, just tell me who did this to you. I won't hurt them, I promise." 

Draco sighed, looking away. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa, thinking hard before speaking. 

"It's alright, Harry. I did that. I did it to myself."


	9. New soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's snowing tonight where I am, so here you go

It was quiet for some time, the only sound being Harry's breathing which gradually became calmer as his anger subsided. He took one final deep breath before he spoke, choosing his words carefully partly because he didn't want to upset Draco and partly because he simply had no idea what to say.

"R-right, okay. Can I ask you why you did it?" 

Draco scoffed, avoiding Harry's eyes. 

"Why do you think, Harry? I'm not exactly proud of what I was." 

Harry's brows furrowed and he shook his head, reaching out in an attempt to take Draco's hand. Draco flinched away, shooting daggers. "Satisfied?"

"Not really, actually. Why didn't you use a proper healing spell? That's going to scar!" 

"Well, that was sort of the point," Draco muttered. "Why would I bother slicing at the damn thing if it was just going to reappear, just as new. I didn't exactly find it _fun_. Can we leave it now, please. Its done and I'm not going to do it again, okay?" 

Harry sighed and nodded, resigned. 

"Trust a Slytherin not to talk about his feelings." 

"And trust a Gryffindor to shove his nose where it isn't wanted," Draco retorted, staring Harry down. "My family ran a don't ask, don't tell sort of household." 

"Yeah," Harry replied, raising his eyebrows and folding his arms. "Look at all the good it did them." 

Draco gawped at him, frozen. It took Harry a second to realise the damage he'd done, but he was already too late. 

"Fuck you, Potter." 

With that sentiment, Draco was gone before Harry could say 'Quidditch'.

~

It was three long days before Harry was able to catch Draco on his own. The blond had been avoiding him like the plague, turning in the opposite direction when Harry caught him in the corridor. Harry meant what he said, yeah, but he didn't need to say it. The word on the street was that Draco's father wasn't doing too well in Azkaban and as little as Harry cared for Lucius Malfoy, Harry had to admit he was forming a certain fondness for his son. 

It was dusk and the sky was busy with a million snowflakes, of which there was already a thick layer of on the ground. Harry, who loved the snow, was walking alone through the grounds. The heat of the Gryffindor common room had been suffocating and Hermione's constant questioning wasn't helping either. They stumbled into each other simply by coincidence - or as Harry nonchalantly thought to himself, fate - as they so often did. Draco grimaced and made to turn but Harry caught hold of his arm. 

"Malfoy, wait." 

Draco turned slowly and Harry let out a sigh of relief. Draco eyed him wryly, standing up a little bit straighter and looking down his nose. 

"What do you want, Potter?" 

The brunette sighed, rubbing his hands together out of cold. A snowflake landed on the tip of Draco's nose but Harry forced himself to hold back from brushing it away. 

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry. What I said the other day was..." 

Draco's expression almost broke, but he managed to maintain the illusion that he really couldn't care less. 

"Stupid, like most things you say, Potter. I'm not sure why you're wasting your breath." Draco turned to go but once again, Harry stopped him. 

"Stop being a prick, Draco. I know you can't be that annoyed. You're just scared." 

"Scared, Potter?" Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes. "This should be good." 

"You're scared because you like talking to me and you don't know what to do about it." Harry folded his arms, rolling his shoulders back. "Tell me I'm wrong." 

Draco glared at him, slicking his hair back and brushing snow from his face. "Sounds like wishful thinking to me." He stared Harry down, keeping ahold of himself for a moment, but it wasn't long before he cracked and his shoulders slumped. He dragged his palm across his face, shaking his head and making an exasperated sound. Harry bit his lip, eyeing Draco carefully as if the boy might explode any second. There was silence until - 

"Alright," Draco conceded, looking down at Harry. Harry took a step closer cautiously and Draco stood firm. 

"Me too," he murmured and Draco rolled his eyes. 

"What a cliche." 

The kiss that followed stole Harry's breath straight from his lungs. The fire that he felt, starting from where Draco's lips met his, shot through his body warming even the tips of his wind-chilled fingers. They embraced, bodies melting together as the snow fell around them. Somewhere in his brain, Harry told himself that they must've looked like something out of a muggle movie. 

~

"Honestly, Harry, I don't know what's gotten into you lately," Ron stared at him as he happily demolished his breakfast. "One minute you're at the bottom of the lake, next you're on top of the world." 

Harry just shrugged, taking another sip of his pumpkin juice. 

"I wouldn't bother, Ron," Hermione chimed in. "Harry doesn't want to talk to his _friends_ these days." She shot him a pointed look, carefully cutting up her morning eggs, sunny-side-up. Harry rolled his eyes at her, smiling. 

"C'mon, Hermione. That's not it at all. I'm just... I dunno, _hormonal_." Harry laughed and Hermione shot him a look that seemed to say 'you've gone mad, Harry Potter'. She looked at him for a moment, head tilted to one side. It was then that a sort of knowing smile started to spread across his face. Harry swallowed, hard. 

"You know Ron," Hermione began, although she was still giving Harry that awful look, "If I didn't know better, I'd think that Harry was seeing someone." 

Harry glared at her while Ron chocked on a bit of his hash brown. 

"What? Surely not, not after Gin-... Well, actually, now I think about..." Ron looked at Hermione, grinning. "Did I ever tell you how brilliant you are?" 

Hermione's grin shifted into a smug little smile and Harry suddenly wished the ground would swallow him whole, _please_.


	10. Make it easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a fluffy filler chapter, but i hope you enjoy it!  
> i have figured out the ending of this fic and i think im gonna round it off within the next few chapters  
> thanks so much for all the kudos!

The Christmas holidays flew by in a blur of study sessions and having far too much to eat. Harry spent the majority of his time alone - Ron and Hermione at the Weasley's, something Harry couldn't face just yet, and Draco visiting his mother - so he was more than relieved when it was over. Even after his friends' return, the time sped by. Hermione was really "knuckling down" with her studies and was encouraging Harry and Ron to do the same. Before he knew it, January was over and he'd only met with Draco four times. The Room of Requirement had become their meeting place on Saturday afternoons and it had changed ever so slightly each time they used it. On the fourth Saturday, to Harry's surprise, it had provided them with a bed. Harry had blushed which made Draco smirk and tease. They laid together and melted into one another, intertwined. Eventually, after a brief power struggle Draco had rolled on top of Harry and kissed him into submission, despite the fact that they both knew Harry was stronger. They were both pretty hesitant to take things any further than some _very_ heated kissing, although Harry had the feeling that Draco had wanted to. Perhaps he did, too. They were both in deep and Harry really had no idea what to do. Everything he thought about, his ridiculous brain brought it back to Draco. It was scary but at the same time it made him so happy and he just couldn't explain it. It didn't help that he couldn't tell a soul, no matter how much Ron and Hermione were pushing to know about Harry's 'New Secret Girlfriend'. That made him laugh when he thought about it - he always just pictured Malfoy in a skirt. He brushed that thought aside with a smile; since they hadn't had a moment alone in over a week, Draco had sent Harry an owl that simply said

_Our spot, tonight. 10pm._

Before every time they met Harry felt the same combination of nerves and excitement. He used to feel that in the beginning with Ginny before things went so horribly wrong. It was 9:30 and he was sitting in the mostly deserted common room working on one of the many papers he had due for the following week. He finished up his work and went upstairs to change out of his uniform, his mind full of Draco. It still felt so strange to be thinking of him so often and so positively but Harry couldn't help himself. 

~ 

Draco sauntered in, five minutes late to his own meeting, as he always was. Harry was sprawled out on the rug beside the fire, waving his wand in little circles causing the flames to dance. He propped himself up onto his elbows and grinned. 

"Alright, Draco?" 

The blond nodded, sitting down beside him carefully, back straight and posture utterly perfect. 

"Yea, been worse." Draco shot Harry a sly smile and kissed him briefly, pulling away all too soon. Harry pulled him downwards so that they lay side by side. Draco stretched lazily, putting his hands behind his head. Harry rolled so that he was on his side, resting his hand on Draco's chest so that he could feel the latter's heartbeat. It was slow and steady, like a drum beat. 

"How are your classes going?" Harry didn't need to be looking at Draco's face to know that he had rolled his eyes. 

"Fine, Potter. Honestly, I don't understand why you always feel the need to bore us both with small talk," Draco said it affectionately, shifting so that his arm was wrapped around Harry's shoulders. He leaned into it, taking in the smell of Draco's cologne. It was musky and reminded Harry of the smell of air just before it rains. He sighed softly, fingering the button of Draco's shirt. 

"What do Slytherins talk about in their downtime then?" He asked, looking up at Draco and smiling. 

"Oh, you know. Plots for world domination, how to get away with murder and the like. Nothing special." 

Harry thumped his chest very gently, but Draco still acted hurt. 

"Bloody hell, Harry, no need for the violence. That was just outright abuse." 

"Shut up," Harry laughed. 

"You shut up," Draco retorted, reaching round to flick at Harry's earlobe. 

"Make me." Harry replied before he could stop himself. Within mere seconds Draco was on top of him, pinning him down by his wrists. Harry laughed, rolling his eyes. 

"You know I could have you off me and in a headlock in literally two seconds, don't you Malfoy?" 

Draco leaned into him so that their lips were an inch away from each other. 

"Don't doubt that you could, Potter. But you won't." 

Harry didn't think he'd ever get over just how _fantastic_ a kisser Draco was. He began softly, barely touching his lips to Harry's. Then it became more firm, dominant. He was kissing with intention, nipping and gently sucking on Harry's bottom lip. They broke away breathlessly and Harry made a happy sort of groan. 

"Where'd you learn to kiss like that?" He asked as Draco rolled off him and back onto the rug. Draco gave his nose a knowing tap and raised his eyebrows. 

"Wouldn't you like to know." 

~


	11. When to Quit

The first time Harry tried to tell Draco those dreaded three words, Draco had seen it coming. They had been curled up on their couch in their secret room together, simply enjoying on another's company when Draco sensed how Harry had tensed and felt his heartbeat speed up. Harry had began with something horribly cliche like _"I want you to know that..."_ but Draco stopped him before Harry could seal their fate.

"Don't say something you're going to regret one day, Harry." He'd said, and Harry had left it. 

It wasn't that Draco didn't understand the way that Harry felt. He had no trouble in that area. But, as Harry had once said, he was scared. Terrified, even. He'd fallen before he could help himself and now they were both stuck. To make matters worse, every time he told himself he was going to stop seeing Harry, the minute he actually met up with him to end things he fell a little bit more. It was so _aggravating_. Potter's stupid, gorgeous emerald eyes and his ridiculous messy hair. Not only those things, but his irritatingly good heart and sharp wit. Things were so much easier when they hated each other, Draco thought. He knew he couldn't hold Harry back from saying it forever. He felt it every time they were together, like some sort of awful grey cloud hanging overhead. Love was always something Draco had trouble with.

~

It was almost March by the time Harry did it again. February in Draco's mind went by in a flash of raven hair and soft lips and _god_ he was in trouble. Harry wouldn't stop kissing the scars on Draco's left arm and each time he did it a little bit of the ice in Draco's heart melted. This time, they were by the lake. It was late and there was a calm settling in over the water. Harry skimmed a stone, causing a ripple of moonlight its murky surface. 

"Draco, I know you don't want to hear it -"

Draco got to his feet and strode over to Harry quickly, clamping a hand over his mouth. 

"Then don't say it, Harry!" He exclaimed, a little too shrilly for his own liking. He gave Harry a stern look and attempted to look frightening. All it took was for Harry to lick his palm for him to back off, slightly disgusted. 

"Don't be such a big baby, Malfoy." Harry said, trying for a smile. "Please let me say it?" 

"Don't you dare, Potter. Don't ruin a good thing." 

Harry raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to one side. Draco noted that he didn't look particularly amused anymore. 

"Why should me telling you that I love you, yes, Malfoy, I fucking _love_ you, ruin anything?" 

Draco groaned, running his hands through his hair. He fidgeted, trying to keep the anger and frustration out of his voice. 

"Because, Potter, you know I can't say that back. I don't know how -" 

Harry cut him off, moving closer. 

"Don't, then. That's fine. Just know that I do." 

Draco had never thought about it like that. 

~

The day that Lucius Malfoy died was a dry spring day like any other. Draco felt like there should have been a storm, or at least a bit of rain. But the sun was in the sky and the Earth was still spinning. All was well. There was no real cause of death; he had wasted away in Azkaban, refusing to eat or drink or do anything much. Draco should've seen it coming, really. He suspected that everybody else had. The worst part was he had no idea what to feel. He was practically orphaned - his mother's wits were diminishing each day and lord only knew this news would make it worse. He felt relieved that the world was rid of his father, guilty that he felt relieved and heartbroken for his mother. It was pretty complicated, when he really thought about it. 

Somehow, Harry found out - because Harry seemed to have a radar for tragedy and always found everything out. Draco really wished he hadn't bothered. He was sitting alone in the Room of Requirement (stupid, really, he knew deep down it was the first place Harry would look) and it had known, as it always did, exactly what to give him. He was in his bedroom, but not as it looked now. The bedroom from his childhood, complete with window overlooking their estate. He said in the window seat, watching as the peacocks stalked across the grass. 

"Draco?" 

Harry's voice was timid and uncertain and pitying, and Draco couldn't stand it. 

"Not today, Harry, _please_." He spoke softly, maintaining his composure. _Don't push it, please_ he thought to himself. He was awful at expressing his emotions and who knew how they might come out on a day like this. There was an uncertain pause before Draco heard Harry leave quietly. 

_He really does love me._

~


	12. Cashing in Bad Luck

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I _don't_." 

"Okay." 

Draco's head was resting on Harry's lap as they sat together on a sunny Monday afternoon. Harry carefully brushed his hand through Draco's hair, knowing he'd be scolded if he mussed up the pristine style. Draco looked up at him, grey-blue eyes barely open. Harry thought he looked a lot like a resting Persian cat draped lazily over him like that. Even lying down he still managed to look regal. Even while bereft, too. 

"How're Granger and Weasley?" 

Harry was slightly taken aback at this, put he knew better than to question it. Draco had funny little ways of distracting himself. 

"They're doing pretty well. Hermione's getting wound up about exams even though they're about two months away and everyone knows she'll pass with flying colours. I think she's secretly a bit more concerned about Ron doing well." 

Harry watched as a small smile spread across Draco's lips and his eyes shut completely. 

"Granger's really clever, isn't she? I was always a bit jealous of that..." He yawned mid sentence, "I'm not all that good with books. Brilliant with a wand, but..." 

Harry smiled, rubbing Draco's temple gently with his thumb. 

"Always so modest, Draco," he murmured fondly. It wasn't long before Draco's breathing was deep and slow, his expression peaceful. He looked vaguely angelic, but Harry attributed that to the fair hair and pureblood bone structure. He'd never give Draco the satisfaction of telling him that, anyway. 

~

"Oh, c'mon Harry. If you can't tell us, who can you tell?" Ron nudged Harry in the ribs and flashed him an evil grin.

"No one, because there's nothing to tell. I've just been studying in private. Need to do well this year." 

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "We're not idiots; I've seen you looking all lovey-dovey. But, if you really, really don't want to tell us... We should just leave it, Ron. The truth will come out eventually." 

Harry shook his head at his two friends and decided to immerse himself in the nearest book - something dreary about the Dark Arts that looked as if it might fall to bits at any moment. When Ron got bored of sitting in the library pretending to study and went off to meet Neville and Seamus, however, Hermione rounded on Harry. 

"I know who it is, Harry, and I just want you to know that I won't tell Ron." 

Harry stared at her, aghast. "What? How?!" 

Hermione shook her head at him, rolling her eyes. "Oh, Harry, I'm not an idiot. You're my best friend. I've seen the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you. But you're right not to tell Ron. I'm not sure he would quite get you and _Malfoy. _"__

Harry couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. Draco had changed now, yes, but that didn't erase how awful he'd always been to Hermione. He was about to apologise when - 

"He sent me an apology letter, you know. About a week ago. He talked about his family and how he was learning that his old way of thinking was completely wrong. He's very smart, Harry. When I wrote back, I thought about telling him I was sorry about his father's death but... Well we both know that'd be a lie. I just wished him better things in the future." 

Harry reached over the table and gave Hermione's hand a squeeze. 

"Thank you, Hermione. You're so brilliant, I don't tell you that enough."

~

About a week and a half after receiving the news of his father's death, Draco left Hogwarts to attend the funeral and visit with his mother. Harry kissed him goodbye the night before he left and watched from his dormitory window as Draco left across the bridge, accompanied by Parkinson, Goyle, Zabini and Knott. He wondered if Lucius Malfoy's funeral would be well attended. Probably not. A couple of weeks dragged by slowly, with Harry only receiving one letter from Draco that read -

_Harry,_

_Mother isn't doing well. She won't stop crying, and even the healers can't seem to figure out what to do with her. Funeral was awful, only about five other people showed up. May be quite a while before I'm back at Hogwarts._

_Yours, DM_

Harry read it over and over, looking for some warmth in Draco's words. It was difficult. Before he left, Harry felt this strong connection to him. He knew Draco couldn't _tell_ him that he loved him, but he had felt it. The distance between them was straining him and he was desperate when he wrote back simply 

_I love you._

_HP_

After that, there was painful silence for days before he finally got his reply. 

_Harry,_

_You too. I'm sorry._

_Yours faithfuly,_

_DM_

~

Harry heard of Draco's return before he saw him. Hermione told him in a hushed tone one evening while Ron was out of earshot. The next morning, he saw Draco at breakfast. The blond was sitting straight and tall in his seat. He looked tired, exhausted even, but there was still a certain pompousness in the way he held himself. Harry could hear his drawling voice above the crowd as he spoke to a pretty Slytherin girl with waist length brown hair and long eyelashes. He couldn't quite make out what Draco was saying and he felt a pang of jealousy and faint anxiety. He desperately wanted, no needed, to speak to Draco. To make sure that he really was alright. He caught him in the corridor, and Draco followed him wordlessly until they were safely confined to the Room of Requirement. Harry embraced him, and he couldn't help but notice how Draco stiffened when they touched. He patted Harry's back awkwardly, as if they hadn't spent hours laying in bed with one another.

"Draco, you're back! Are you alright? Your last letter..."

Draco was avoiding Harry's eye and he was growing increasingly nervous. 

"Draco, come on. Talk to me." 

Draco let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. The look he gave Harry was one of longing and deep, deep regret. 

"I'm sorry, Harry. I thought you would have... Understood." 

Harry stared at him blankly, although his heart was racing and his stomach turning. 

"Regrettably, my mother's condition had worsened greatly upon my arrival. She was utterly inconsolable. I tried so many things, but I couldn't-" Draco's voice cracked and he took a brief moment to gather himself, "There was nothing I could do or say to appease her. With everything my family has lost, she asked one thing of me." 

Harry's stomach did an awful flip and he took a step forward, reaching out to Draco. His hand froze in the air before dropping back to his side, limp. 

"There is a girl, Astoria. She's quite brilliant, really. And although this is not easy, I suppose it could be far worse -" 

Harry cut him off, his voice shaking. 

"What are you telling me, Draco?" 

Draco looked at him, the heartbreak now evident in his face. His bottom lip quivered before he spoke. 

"I'm sorry, Harry. My mother... All she wants is for me to continue the family line. I told you what purebloods are like with marriage..." 

Harry felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. "But you're only eighteen, Draco. Even by pureblood standards..." 

Draco nodded, "It won't be for a few years. There are plenty of arrangements and everything, but mother has stopped crying. Before I left, I even persuaded her to crack a smile." 

"Oh, brilliant. At least mummy's happy that little Draco will carry on the Malfoy line. How can you do this, Draco? After _everything_ we've talked about..." 

"There is nothing else I can do, Harry." Draco said and his words felt final. Harry was beginning to feel like he wanted this. That was, until Draco leaned forward and pressed a small, folded piece of paper into Harry's hand. 

"I'm sorry," and with that, he left.

Harry sunk down onto the plush sofa, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He unfolded the paper slowly, his hands shaking. It was an envelope, and the letter inside was dated - _2nd April, 1999_

_Harry,_

_Things are becoming difficult and I'm starting to really miss you. I know I told you before that I couldn't say this, but I suppose I haven't much to lose. Not sure if writing it counts, anyway._

_I love you._

_Yours, always_

_Draco_

~


	13. A very different Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the love and support ive gotten over the two or so weeks  
> i've loved writing this more than i can say and im sad to be ending it  
> this was going to end very differently, but i couldn't help myself  
> i hope you love it!

_Five years later..._

It was a bright spring morning and Harry Potter was sitting in the kitchen of his cosy flat above Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. It had been a late night at the Ministry but it was a Saturday, so he had allowed himself a little lie-in. He took a sip of his tea and unfolded that day's issue of 'The Daily Prophet.' The headline caught his eye instantly, as did its author. 

_MALFOY MAYHEM_

 _By Rita Skeeter_

Harry raised his eyebrows; Malfoy had made it into the papers a few times over the past five years. The first couple were the coverage of Malfoy's rather over-the-top wedding to Astoria Greengrass in 2002 and his wife's pregnancy announcement the following year. Later that year came Narcissa Malfoy's obituary. It was then that Harry had considered writing; Draco's mother had, afterall, saved his life, but he decided against it. Better to stay out of the Malfoys' way. Harry took a deep breath in and read on - 

_Following the untimely death of Narcissa Malfoy last winter, young Draco Malfoy faces further turmoil. His wife of two years, Astoria Malfoy has been spotted in public with another man - family friend Theodore Knott!_

Below this were two photographs. The first showed a family portrait; Draco stood proud and tall above his wife who sat in what looked more like a throne than a chair. In her arms, wrapped in white cloth was a chubby blond haired baby. The second photo was blurry, clearly taken from a distance, and Harry found it difficult to make out. When he squinted, he could just about see Astoria huddled close to Knott in an embrace, their lips touching briefly as the picture moved. His heart was racing and his hands shook a little as the article continued - 

_A representative of Mr Malfoy's has stated that he has filed for divorce from his wife, and will not be fighting for custody of their infant son, Scorpius. Sources say that Malfoy is not taking this latest emotional blow well, and there hasn't been a public sighting of him in over a week._

The article went on, but Harry had stopped reading. He put the paper down slowly and sat for a moment, absorbing this new information. He knew it had to be true - the photograph was evidence enough of that, but he couldn't quite believe that Draco was utterly devastated. It didn't take a genius to see that although he and his wife got along, there was no love or even the slightest bit of real romance between the two. Harry got to his feet abruptly, his head swimming with thoughts of Draco, how he was feeling, why he wasn't fighting for his only son. Harry found himself at his writing desk, and he picked up his quill. 

~

Draco wasn't surprised when he woke up to a flurry of owls in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. They'd come down through the chimney, the windows, anywhere they could. He assumed the majority were condolences, perhaps a few legal papers. He shooed them away, carefully taking letters from beaks. As he skimmed through the pile, one envelope in particular caught his eye. The handwriting was so familiar and yet he struggled to place it. It was written in bright green ink and was quite messy, yet it still had its charm. He tore it open, sinking down into a plush, green armchair. When he realised who it was from, his heart stopped. 

~

It was Monday evening, and for the first time in all his life, Draco Malfoy was early. Harry had said five o'clock, but Draco had been so anxious to leave his house that he floo'd there ten minutes early. Harry's flat was just as Draco had imagined it would be; the living room was a mess of deep red and sunburnt orange with a myriad of photographs covering almost every surface. The mantelpiece was what caught Draco's eye, however. Four framed photographs stood in pride of place there. The first, from what Draco could tell, was of Lily and James, Harry's parents. Next to that stood a pretty white frame, from which out smiled Granger and Weasley. They looked unbelievably happy; Hermione in a stunning white gown and Ron in fresh, new-looking dress robes. That made Draco smile. There was a picture of Harry and Ron somewhere sunny, arms wrapped around one another, grinning at the photographer. Harry's skin looked practically golden and Weasely was covered in freckles. The final photograph on the mantel showed a smiling Harry, holding up a five or six year old boy with scruffy brown hair and spinning him around. It took Draco a moment, but he soon realised that the boy was his own second cousin and Harry's godson, Edward Lupin. That made him smile even more. Somewhere behind him, a clock struck five and he took a step back from the fire place, anticipating Harry's arrival. In a flurry of green flames and smoke, the two stood face to face for the first time in just over five years. 

"Draco..." 

"Harry..."

"You were early." 

"I was." 

"You're never early." 

Draco's lips formed a sly smile. 

"Call it a special occasion." 

They stood for a few moments, taking in the changes that five years apart had brought. Draco noticed that Harry had a little scar on his cheek and one or two on his arms. He was about half an inch taller and just as tanned as he was in the photographs. His glasses still looked exactly the same as they had when the pair were eleven years old, complete with spello-tape. Draco himself had grown too, and had stopped putting that awful grease in his hair. It looked a bit like it had in their third year, only wavier and longer. Their contrast in clothing couldn't have been more stark. Harry wore a white t-shirt and black trousers, shrinking in comparison to Draco's tailor made robes, black with emerald green lining and a grey tie tied tight to his neck. 

"Looks like you've been busy, Potter," Draco smiled, gesturing at the photographs, awards and newspaper clippings all around the room. 

Harry couldn't help but grin, nodding his head. 

"Yeah. Well, from what I've seen in the papers, so have you. You're a father." 

"Don't believe everything you see in the papers, Harry."

Harry gestured for him to sit in one of the cushy red armchairs and then followed suit. 

"No? I suppose we have quite a bit of catching up to do..." 

Things started to make sense to Harry very quickly once Draco began to explain himself. He and Astoria had come to an agreement, and she was seeing Theodore Knott the entire time she and Draco were married. That also explained Draco's 'son', who wasn't really his at all. It had all been a pretence to satisfy Draco's dying mother. 

"The marriage was legal, though, and we really are getting a divorce." Draco explained when he was finally finished. 

"Right, okay. So." 

Draco smirked, raising an eyebrow. 

"So." 

They both got to their feet, giving each other all too familiar looks. They were upon each other in moments, lips crashing together as they embraced. There was no gentleness there, just a sense of urgency, of five years worth of kisses to catch up on. 

~ 

When Harry Potter awoke the next day, lying in his warm comfortable bed next to a man he had loved since he was eighteen years old, for a moment, he could find no fault in the world. The sun shone in through a gap in his curtains and he could hear the bustle of Tuesday morning in Diagon Alley below them. Draco stirred and moved closer to Harry, their hands touching. Harry pressed a kiss to the blond man's cheek and sighed contentedly. 

All was well. 

~


End file.
